The Epic of Calidus
by Knower
Summary: A veteran legion knight and personal agent of Emperor Uriel Septim VII, Publius Galerius Calidus is one of the most distinguished servants of the empire. But when political intrigue grows out of hand,he is deemed a threat and imprisoned.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Things were simpler in here. They were never simple outside. Publius Galerius Calidus rubbed his eyes and looked around the drearily familiar sight of his cell. The stone walls and floor were cold and visibly moist, the gray-green slabs glistening from the blue light that seeped in through the tiny window on the top of the back wall of the cell. Calidus sat at the creaky wooden table near the wall and took a gulp of dirty water from a simple clay pot. He eyed the empty bowl he had placed near the cell door, and grimaced as the nagging pain in his stomach and the queasy weakness of his limbs reminded him that he had not eaten for some time and that the next tiny portion of slop would not come until the next morning. He ran his fingers through his brown stubble. He wasn't sure how long he had been imprisoned. A year and a half, maybe. Or maybe that was just how long it felt.

His lingering memories of life before his imprisonment seemed like a mystic's visions of a past life. He knew they were real and that they were distinctly his, but there seemed to be an invisible barrier between those memories and the mundane visuals of his days in bondage, a divide thicker and more imposing than the expressionless stone façade he faced as he sat and pondered.

There was little else for him to think about in the stale atmosphere of his cell, save for the steady sound of dripping water which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and the rasping voice of the Dunmer in the opposite cell shouting taunts at passing guards. It was difficult to refrain from thinking about his old life when he caught a glimpse of the guards.

_Do they even remember that I was once their superior?_

He had always admired the Imperial Legion. He had idolized the great legion heroes of the past since he was a small boy. He was proud to have dedicated his life to serving the empire.

_I was always loyal. I had never demonstrated otherwise. Why did they turn on me?_

But it was not the empire that had turned on him, as he reminded himself. It was Geldall. Prince Geldall Septim, the crown prince to the throne of the Empire of Tamriel. At least Geldall thought he was the crown prince. He certainly told himself that he was entitled to that title as the eldest son of the reigning Septim, Uriel VII. Uriel never explicitly stated who he wanted to succeed him to the throne, and there had been long-standing concerns that none of his sons, neither Geldall nor Enman nor Ebel, were qualified for the immense task to ruling an empire.

_Nine hells, _Calidus thought, with a shudder of anger. _What a foolish, malicious bastard of an Emperor Geldall would make._

He thought back to that day, all those years ago, when he first applied for recruitment into the Imperial Legion. He remembered with utmost clarity the parchment he filled out and signed, the formal document that stated his background and his desire for recruitment. Publius Galerius Calidus. Race: Imperial. Hair: Dark brown. Eyes: Blue. Height: 6'1". Age: 17. Born: 3E 399, Bruma, Cyrodiil. Father: Knight Errant (d. 3E 397). Mother: Council Diplomat.

He had excelled during his months of training, outperforming his fellow recruits in nearly every category. He ran farther, climbed higher, drilled harder, and bested even his superior officers in his favorite phase of training; dueling with wooden swords. He was always eager for glory, constantly seeking to earn the respect of those around and above him. He finished his initial training quickly, and was told that due to his exceptional qualities as a soldier, he would be granted almost any assignment he requested.

"Send me wherever the action is." He had told them. He wanted to travel the empire.

After serving a short time as a guardsman in Bruma, he was transferred to the Imperial City, where he fell in love with the fast-paced urban culture; the sights, sounds, and smells of the heart of an empire. He served only briefly in the Imperial City, however, before being promoted to the rank of trooper and sent to the undeveloped, blighted island of Vvardenfell in the semi-autonomous Imperial province of Morrowind. In the 10 years before his birth, Emperor Uriel Septim VII had been betrayed and impersonated by the imperial battle mage Jagar Tharn, and was subsequently imprisoned in another dimension. Calidus had heard the story often growing up. During the false reign of Jagar Tharn, the interests of the provinces were largely ignored, and the empire's authority over the more distant provinces had begun to wane. In 3E 399, the year Calidus was born, Tharn was defeated by a nameless hero of uncertain origins, and Uriel VII had been freed. He quickly went to work undoing some of the damage Tharn had caused, namely by increasing Imperial troop presences in the provinces more than ever in order to reunite the empire and recentralize authority. Calidus' deployment to Morrowind was part of that effort.

He was stationed at Fort Moonmoth, outside of the city of Balmora. He and his troupe were often sent north into the ashlands in order to stamp out raids on travelling imperial merchants that were being perpetrated by some of the nomadic ashlander tribes. The ashlanders almost never came near the big cities, but they often travelled in the wilderness between settlements to scavenge and raid for supplies when the ash storms got really nasty and food became scarce. Skirmishes often broke out between the ashlanders and the imperial patrols. Often these skirmishes escalated into large pitched battles. Calidus saw his first real combat in one such battle.

He remembered the feeling of exhilaration. The blood pumping through his veins, the adrenaline coursing through him, the comradeship he felt hearing the war cries of his brothers in arms. He remembered how the fighting came so easily to him, like an intricate dance – not to the lute and choir, but to the whizzing of arrows and the clash of weapons. He remembered the pride he felt facing his enemies and cutting them down, one by one. Combat was like no other form of interaction. There was nothing more emotional or more personal than two men, hungry for glory, in a contest for the retaining of their very lives. A dunmer would approach him, clad in netch hide and chitin shell, and Calidus would maneuver around, always light on his feet, dodging a spear thrust and parrying another. In their dance the two men would pay tribute to one another, showing their mutual respect with their skill and ferocity, until the dunmer would make a mistake. He would overreach, or leave his core exposed, and Calidus would reap the reward that came with conquering the will of another man with his own; the thrill of opening the man's torso with a crisp swipe of his blade, hearing his agonized cries, and nodding at his writhing form in a final show of honor before finishing him off. Then he would turn and plant his feet as he sighted the approach of another foe.

He had savored the taste of victory that night. He and some of his soldier friends had returned to Balmora intent on celebrating their triumph to the fullest. They went to the Eight Plates tavern and indulged their glory with Cyrodiilic brandy, their laughter becoming louder and their social restraints melting away in the hazy blur of intoxication. He had capped off his night with what may have been the sweetest prize of all: a beautiful, blonde Nord girl, who easily succumbed to Calidus' handsome face, masculine composure, and impish grin.

He could still remember the way she had felt pressed against him later that night in the room he had rented. Her gleaming eyes, her smooth young skin, her lovely curvaceous body, her rounded breasts, her flowing hair, her soft lips…

A sharp whistle cut through the prison and snapped Calidus back to the present moment. It came from the cell across from his. The dunmer was trying to get his attention.

"Hey, Imperial bastard! Do you know when we get to eat next? I'm starving over here."

"Not until tomorrow, Dreth. Once a day, as always." Calidus responded lazily.

"I heard that the prison is becoming over crowded, and that if they have to take in any new inmates, they'll start killing off the old ones."

Valen Dreth was always one for conjuring up paranoid conspiracies in his head. As annoying as he was, Calidus couldn't help but have pity for him. He had been locked up in that lonely cell for years longer than anyone, his only form of amusement coming in the form of pressing up against the bars, barking insults at passers-by and fabricating lonely fantasies in his head. It was no wonder that he was starting to slip into insanity. Calidus wasn't really sure what crime Dreth had even committed that had lead to such a long stint in the prison.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dark Elf. We're all but forgotten down here. We're not even worth killing in their eyes. They'll just start crowding multiple inmates into single cells."

"Great," Dreth replied, "I was just telling Heniel how this place didn't stink quite enough. Glad to know they're working on that problem."

He heard a sigh come from the Breton's cell down the hall.

Calidus lay on the stip of fabric covering a wooden board that was supposed to pass for a bed. He closed his eyes and visualized his past, his only form of escape from that deplorable prison.

After serving a few years in Vvardenfell, he was again moved to Morrowind's capital city of Mournhold, where he had the honor of serving in the retinue of the Royal Imperial Guard of Morrowind's king Helseth Hlaalu. Serving on a king's royal retinue was a dramatically different experience than the often brutal fighting in the untamed ashlands of Vvardenfell. Yet to Calidus' surprise, the intricacies of court intrigue and diplomacy between Helseth and his court and the "goddess" Almalexia that the Dunmer Tribunal temple worshipped proved to be virtually every bit as exciting as the thrill of battle. He bore witness to the king's court meetings and took part in negotiations between the ever-growing Imperial presence around Mournhold and the representatives of Almalexia.

And then there was the night he would never forget, when he crossed paths with the famous dunmer courtesan, Barenziah. He was on duty in the courtyard of the palace when she emerged from her quarters, flanked by two bodyguards. He admired the elegance of her steps, synergizing with the flow of her extravagant royal gown. Although she had aged, her facial features were still strikingly beautiful. He had broken all level of military discipline and professionalism, deciding that he could not miss the opportunity to exchange words with such a famous icon of Morrowind. He broke into an undignified run to catch up with her, and was stopped just short of reaching her by the menacing halberds of her bodyguards. Barenziah had looked bewildered to turn around and see the young legion soldier struggling against two others to get closer to her.

"Milady! Lady Barenziah!" he was gasping as her bodyguards threatened to skewer him on the spot.

She called her guards to restraint, allowing Calidus to catch his breath.

"Yes, young man?" she had asked in a light, delicate tone, smiling enigmatically.

It was only then that he had realized that he had prepared absolutely nothing to say to her.

"I…um…I just wanted to…" he was struggling to find words and becoming lost in her intelligent, captivating gaze.

"I read your book!" he shouted suddenly.

She had laughed softly at his outburst. Both of her bodyguards had smirked with amusement.

"Will that be all, Imperial?" she said politely.

He hadn't been able to utter another word to her. He was trapped in the warmth of her smile, the violent color and subtle intensity of her eyes.

She had chuckled again and gone on her way. It was one of the only times in Calidus' life that a woman had left him feeling embarrassed.

From Morrowind he had been transferred to a legion troop that was tasked with quelling tensions between the Dunmer in western Morrowind and the Nords of Skyrim, leading to a series of clashes with both sides. As order began to be restored and the untamed clans of Skyrim were slowly brought back into the Imperial fold, Calidus spent most of his time in Windhelm, drinking ale to warm his insides and participating in what he felt was the greatest aspect of Nord culture: fighting in the snow while drunk. The effects of the liquor coupled with the numbing effect of Skyrim's bitter cold meant that he could take a nasty shot from a Nord brute and not feel a thing until the next morning. He would enter the local mead hall, bundled up in thick furs, and wait for the first passing glance or comment to stir him for a fight.

It wasn't long before the legion leadership got wind of his reputation for vice and violence, and it was decided that he would be transferred again to a new trouble area. This time he would be leading troops into battle, and to mark this new responsibility he was given the title of Knight Bachelor. He was sent south, placed at the command of the Argonia Legion, a legion tasked with reclaiming some of the border swamplands that had been overtaken by the Argonians of Black Marsh, as well as rendering assistance to King Helseth of Morrowind's efforts to stamp out Dunmer slavers who were still operating in Black Marsh.

The terrain of Black Marsh was almost impossible to navigate, and it only became more treacherous the deeper into the interior the legions went. The fighting was savage, and In the end the Argonia Legion campaign was met with limited success.

After Black Marsh he had served in a number of locales throughout western Tamriel. Serving briefly in the Imperial naval fleet as part of its effort to defeat piracy that was becoming ever more common on shipping lanes between the Summerset Isles and mainland Tamriel, and participating in legion campaigns in Hammerfell and High Rock.

And then, without any explanation, he had been recalled back to Cyrodiil.

"You have shown tremendous individual ability in your years of legion service." The blades representative had told him at Cloud Ruler Temple outside of Bruma.

"You are being offered membership as an operative of the Blades. You will be taking on subtle and politically sensitive tasks that will have an impact on the entire empire, but we feel that you are more than up to the challenge."

And so he had begun his days as an operative of the Blades.

As he had with his basic training, he excelled in his Blades training and was quickly sent into the field to do the will of the Emperor. He proved tremendously effective, as always, and quickly rose through the ranks of the order. Within a few years, he was one of the ranking blades operatives of the entire Empire, and his orders began to come not from his superiors within the Blades, but from the Emperor himself.

He remembered the first time he had met Uriel Septim VII face to face. He was permitted access to the private living quarters of the Emperor, an honor allowed to few but the most distinguished servants of the empire. The floor was lavishly decorated, the dark red carpet accentuated by drapery of gold and violet, the perennial colors of royalty and authority. Calidus had felt severely outclassed, in his casual worn brown robes, with his hood pulled back and bunching up around his shoulders as he knelt before his majesty.

The emperor was standing in the chamber, clad in the traditional regal robes of violet, outlined with white fur on the bottom and at around the top. His silver hair was brightened by the lighting, giving him an ethereal quality.

He remembered the way he felt when the emperor first focused his gaze on him. He came to feel the same way every time the emperor looked at him. It was like he could take one glance at you, and understand you completely, his soft eyes looking not at yours, but through them, and into the inner workings of your mind; your hopes, your fears, your concerns – the essence of your soul. It was always rumored about the Septims that they could see more than "Lesser men", and the way they saw people was no exception. As nervous as he had been about that first meeting, that very first look had erased all anxiety, and from that point on Calidus had always felt at ease around Uriel Septim.

"Publius Galerius Calidus, right? You've had quite a record of service in the legions. I've read a lot about you. My advisors tell me that you've had the most well-rounded experience of service of anyone in the empire. You're a heavy drinker, a womanizer, a gambler, a duelist, a brawler, a good liar, and that you've got a bit of a reckless streak. "

"I'm also a hell of a shot with a bow, my liege." Calidus had said, rising to his feet.

"Modest, too!" Uriel had chuckled, his smile pushing his wrinkled cheekbones upward to cover his eyes, reducing them to tiny spots of reflected light.

"I think you'll fit right in around here, Publius. You seem perfectly suited to court life. You're going to serve me as the sharpened tip of the imperial spear. You will work as my informant and advisor. I don't think there's any reason to sugarcoat what exactly your role is going to be in my service, agent. You're going to spy for me. You're going to be my enforcer both in the Imperial City and in the proinces. The Elder Council has been getting quite disruptive lately, and I've gotten wind of several alleged conspiracies against the empire. I'm going to need someone like you with an ear to the ground. I've arranged to let you stay in the Imperial guest quarters. You'll be reporting directly to me from here on out, am I understood?"

"Understood."


	2. Chapter 2

I suppose I should put a disclaimer on here since I forgot to include one in the first chapter: I don't own Oblivion, or any of the games and lore of the Elder Scrolls series.

I've also put in some breaks in the text because the settings in this chapter shift a bit and it could be a little confusing. I always enjoy feedback.

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**Chapter 2**

Being the emperor's enforcer proved to be a difficult, yet rewarding line of work. Aside from the most private rooms of the Imperial Palace, such as the personal sleeping quarters of the emperor and elder councilmen, the imperial battlemage's quarters, and the Imperial library that housed the Elder Scrolls, Calidus was given almost free range in the palace. His first primary task was a simple one: observe the members of the Elder Council, their allegiances and desires, gather as much information on them as possible, and slip into the Emperor's quarters late at night to give a briefing on what he was able to uncover.

"The first Councilman I'd like you to keep an eye on," Uriel told him, "Is an Imperial named Cidius Ponius. He has been rather difficult to deal with lately and I want you to investigate why. There have also been reports from my other informants that Ponius has been meeting with a small group of other councilmen. If you can, I'd like you to discover just what it is they have been discussing at these meetings."

"Understood, my liege." Calidus said coolly, rising to his feet, pulling his hood over his head, and exiting the emperor's quarters.

He left the Imperial palace, his steps splattering puddles that were collecting in depressions in the sidewalk as the drizzle pattered on, making the city glimmer as the weak rays of sunlight that penetrated the clouds bounced off of every water-coated surface. He slowed his steps to take it in; the simple pleasure of smelling the rain, and hearing the soft whispers of the downpour and the occasional brooding groan of thunder.

He wasn't sure where to start with Ponius. He wasn't familiar with the man, only having seen him on occasion around the palace after Elder Council meetings. He looked tall and dignified, with dark but thinning hair which he oiled and combed over. He seemed personable enough, chatting amiably after council sessions.

Now that Calidus thought about it, there were a few specific councilmen that usually accompanied Ponius out of the council chamber. He struggled to remember their appearances. There was another Imperial, a Bosmer, and a Redguard. He didn't know their names, nor did he have any clue as to what gripe they may have had against the empire.

He let out a sigh as he approached a local tavern, and resigned himself to waiting.

_I'll just have to keep an ear to the ground._

He creaked open the door to the tavern and stepped inside out of the rain. The room was dark, but through the stillness he could hear the chiming of silverware and the amiable chatting of patrons. He had always liked the cozy atmosphere of taverns. The Feed Bag, this one was called. He took a seat facing the door and ordered himself a pint of ale. He picked up a copy of the Black Horse Courier, the local newspaper, that was sitting on the table and skimmed the sensational headlines. The front headline read, "Violence continues as Nords from Solstheim raid Vvardenfell coastline". He sighed again, laying the paper back on the table and letting his eyes wander around the room. A few tables away, a young Dunmer couple sat and conversed softly. They reminded him of all those year s ago, during his service in Vvardenfell, when he had visited the tiny southern port village of Seyda Neen.

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He had enjoyed visiting the south of Vvardenfell, as it was mercifully unscathed by the ash storms and blighted wasteland that originated from red mountain and dominated most of the island. The southern bogs were a delightful contrast to that depressing landscape; green, tropical, and sporting thick foliage that sprouted up alongside the roads and pathways.

Imperials in Seyda Neen were not an unusual sight, but when travelling outside of the village, passing through small farms and plantations, the absence of his own kind and the unnerving glances of the plantation owners reminded him of just how far away from home he was.

He remembered one particular day, when he was been exploring the farmlands south of Pelagiad, when he came upon a shrine to Lord Vivec hidden within a grove of trees and bordering a small lake. A single Dark Elf stood before the unadorned stone slab, head bowed, clad in simple netch leather. He was tall and gauntly dignified, with flowing black hair, characteristic of his race. Curious, Calidus had decided to approach him.

"Excuse me, Muthsera?" Calidus had called, using a title he commonly heard the dunmer use in addressing one another.

The Dunmer had turned and focused his gaze on him, his face remaining thoughtful, but showing little expression at the sight of this foreigner.

"Honor to you, Sir." The Dunmer had finally replied curiously. "You certainly look like a stranger in a strange land. What brings you out into the country?"

"What is the significance of this shrine?" Calidus had asked, ignoring the Dunmer's second question.

"This is a shrine to Lord Vivec; a destination for pilgrims of the Tribunal Temple. It revolves around a story from the 36 Lessons of Vivec. They say Vivec came upon a farmer whose guar had died. The man was unable to produce his crop without the guar, so Vivec worked for him, taking on the role of a beast of burden, so that the man was able to provide sustenance for himself. It's a testament to self-sacrifice in the name of helping others."

"Do you believe the story?"

The dunmer's face remained curiously unexpressive, but his eyes strayed away from Calidus to the nearby lake.

"I believe in the lesson the story presents. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your pride for the sake of others. Personal glory is meaningless unless it is used for the benefit of those around you. Pride and power are meaningless without the lowest and most humble of society to lift them up and grant them those titles."

"I don't believe that at all."

The Dunmer's eyes returned to his own.

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that it is every man's birthright to seek the betterment of himself and his station in life. The most powerful person is the one who can reject the notion that they owe everything to everyone else, who can rise above the masses and take the reins of power. They are the ones who carry the world on their shoulders. They're the only ones who are capable of it. Without them, there is nothing. No hope for the future."

The Dunmer's eyes narrowed a little. Calidus noted how remarkably young he looked, despite the scar that ran diagonally on either side of his left eye. He couldn't have been much older than the Imperial, taking into account the different lifespan of the two races.

"What good is a world…" The Dunmer replied cautiously, "that is driven by nothing but raw ambition and lust for power?"

Something about the Dark Elf's accent struck Calidus. It was clearly the accent of a Dunmer of Morrowind, but it certainly wasn't a Vvardenfell accent. It didn't sound exactly like a Mournhold accent either.

"Ambition and the lust for power are the only two things that can save us." Said Calidus.

"From what?"

"Mediocrity. The Imperial race has built the most powerful empire the world has ever seen. We're capable of anything. The only things that can anyone back are our own reservations. "

The Dunmer sighed, his eyes moving to the shrine.

"The Imperial way is not that of the Dunmer. Ambition cannot save the world. Only virtue can do that."

"Where are you from, Dark Elf? You're not from Vvardenfell, are y-"

But Calidus was cut short by astonishment as the Dunmer had disappeared before his eyes in an instant.

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Calidus finished his drink, stood up from his table and walked briskly to the door, tossing a few coins on the counter as payment.

He stepped back outside. The rainstorm had begun to lose its momentum, the air sighing its last few gasps of wind as the menacing clouds above began their slow retreat. The streets were largely empty, with only a few remaining shoppers and beggars scurrying for dry cover. He was heading back toward the imperial palace when he was stopped short near the gate between the market district and the green emperor way. A guardsman near the gate was talking with a paunchy Redguard, who revealed his anxiety as he spoke with the sharp, jutting movements of his head and arms. Calidus recognized the Redguard almost immediately.

_That is one of Ponius' associates. This might be my break._

"…I'm sorry, Councilor Lidean, but I haven't seen Councilor Ponius since the last session." The guard was saying. "I couldn't tell you where he is. You know how private he can be."

"He was supposed to meet me here an hour ago!" the Redguard snapped, unable to contain his annoyance. "You haven't seen or heard from him at all?"

"No, I haven't. I'm sorry, Sir. Your guess is as good as to where he may be."

Calidus kept as much distance as he could while still being within earshot of the conversation. When the Redguard gave up and turned to leave, he let him gain a suitable amount of distance before beginning to follow him. Councilor Lidean's steps were short and quick, his shoulders hunched, giving him a look more becoming of a beggar in rags than of the noble in fine blue velvet attire that Calidus observed. The rain had stopped altogether now, the overcast sky giving more way to the setting sun, casting the long shadows of dusk from the elegant towers and stone monuments. He followed the Councilman through the broad gates that separated the market district form the Elven Gardens district. Calidus didn't often visit this part of the city. The affluent district lost much of the charm that the rest of the city seemed to display. There were no crowds of sellers and hagglers, no sounds of bartering, laughter, or of merchants shouting clever epithets to advertise their wares. It was home only to small groups of well dressed nobles, often harangued by beggars and tramps who felt they would have better luck in the affluent district of town than with the bustling workers who inhabited the other districts.

Calidus kept his steps slow and casual, but rarely took his eyes off of the Councilor. He watched the Redguard stride through the district plaza, arriving finally at the entrance of the lavish Tiber Septim Hotel. The Imperial watched him pull open the door and disappear inside. He decided to give it an hour or so before following him, so as not to look too conspicuous.

"Excuse me, Sir. Could you take pity and spare a coin or two?" a shaking voice to his side said.

Calidus turned to see an old Bosmer woman hunched over a walking stick. He studied her for a moment before reaching into his robes and, after fumbling around for a few seconds, producing a small pouch of coins.

"There's 30 Septims in here, that will suffice for now, won't it?" He said politely, dropping the pouch into the woman's hands, which were cupped and held in front of her as she leaned forward with her forearms on the crutch.

"Bless you, Cyrodiil!" she gasped, opening the pouch and rifling through the coins with her bony fingers. "This is much more than I could have hoped for. Blessings of Akatosh upon ye, young man."

Calidus smiled faintly, still studying the woman's petite, bent figure. Her eyes were still fixated upon the cloth pouch in her hands.

"May I ask your name, Miss?"

"Belwen, Sir."

"Belwen," he repeated softly. "Is there any way I could ask a favor from you? Did you happen to see that Redguard that just entered the Tiber Septim Hotel?"

"The Elder Councilman? Oh yes, I've seen him around here quite often. Usually either going from the hotel to the palace or from the palace to the hotel. Never says a word to anyone around him. Except when he has that other man with him. The Imperial. The older gentleman. Handsome man, I'd say. Not as handsome as a young man like you, though."

Calidus contained his excitement and amusement at the old woman's banter.

"Do you know why he comes to this hotel?"

"No, I can't surely say. It's always seemed kind of odd that he would need a hotel, when I think he has a room at the palace. I can hardly see why he'd need another place to stay so close by."

"Thank you, miss. You've been a great help."

The old woman and the young man parted ways, the beggar heading off into the alleyway to count her winnings, and the agent starting toward the entrance of the Tiber Septim Hotel.

The door to the hotel groaned in protest as he opened it cautiously, and stepped into the dimly lighted lobby. The door closed forcefully behind him, and he took a moment to look around the room. The candlelight danced around the lobby, touching everything with a quality of sensuality.

He was about to approach the clerk behind the front desk when he realized that he had given the last of his money away to the beggar. Renting a room wouldn't be an option. He thought of another idea and approached the desk.

"Good evening, Sir." He said to the clerk, "I'm here to visit someone. Is it alright if I head upstairs?"

The clerk's voice was concise and formal. "I'm sorry, but we don't have any record of any of the guests expecting visitors at this time. You'd have to get the occupants permission before we could let you go."

Calidus thought for a moment, and then leaned forward with the traces of a smirk on his lips.

"She's not expecting me, but she'll be happy to see me, trust me." He said quietly.

"You mean…the Khajiit?" the clerk said apprehensively, "Never mind, it's none of my business. I suppose I can make an exception and let you head on up. Don't make any trouble though."

Calidus mouthed the words "Thank you" and turned to head upstairs.

_There won't be any sense in barging into his room while he's till awake. That'll just get me arrested._

He made his way down the hall of rooms, hoping to find an empty one where he could hold up for a few hours. He stopped and listened as he could hear Councilor Lidean's voice coming from the room at the far end of the hall, along with another that he couldn't recognize.

"I think he's starting to suspect," Lidean's voice was saying. "We don't have a lot of time left, we're going to have to get the ball rolling soon on this. We can't afford to be discovered…"

Calidus flinched as the door immediately to his right swung open. He spun around to see an equally startled looking Khajiit coming from her room. She had taken a frightened step backwards upon seeing the robed figure looming just outside of her door, and she stood nervously in the doorway. Her fright gave way to annoyance upon seeing the amused, cherubic smile that was forming on the Imperial's face.

"By Akatosh, stranger!" she hissed loudly. "You scared me half-"

"Zah'Raji, it's so good to see you! We have a lot of catching up to do." Calidus exclaimed with an audible voice, moving closer to the doorway.

The Khajiit looked bewildered, backing up with apprehension.

"Zah….what? That's not my name! I don't even know who you a-"

"Mind if I come in? I've got something to give to you. " Calidus replied in the same cheerful tone, still inching toward her, his hand reaching for the dagger hilt at his waist.

The Khajiit's eyes widened as she saw the Imperial's intention. She leapt backward, attempting to shut the door in his face, but the Imperial was faster, lunging forward to catch the door and sending her toppling backwards into the room with a forceful shove. She barely had time to let out a squeal before the Imperial had closed the door as quietly as was possible in his haste and dove on top of her, his left hand covering her mouth and his right hand holding the dagger to her throat.

"My name isn't important, and I work for people you wouldn't want to piss off." He said, his hand still muffling the cries of the terrified Khajiit.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I can't risk letting you leave. We're both going to be staying here for a while. When I let go of you, you're going to sit on your bed, with your hands where I can see them, and you're going to quietly answer my questions, understand? I'm not required to spare your life, and I won't hesitate to take it if you force my hand."

He cautiously lowered his dagger and stood up over her, grabbing her hand to help her to her feet. She obeyed his instructions, moving soundlessly to the small cot and sitting with her shaking hands in her lap.

"Do you know who stays in the room at the end of the hall?" Calidus asked after a moment.

"Yes, the Redguard nobleman. He stays here all the time. I think he's on the Elder Council."

"Does he usually have anyone with him?"

"Sometimes another man visits him. I can hear them talking a lot. I think he's there right now."

"Do you know what the other man looks like?"

"Yes. He's an Imperial. About your height, brown hair, looks like he's going bald…"

"Have you overheard them at all? Do you have any idea of the things they've talked about in there?"

"I've heard them making small talk coming down the hall, but I can't hear them well enough, even with my sensitive ears, once they're in the room. I can only tell that what they talk about seems to be pretty serious. I think they try to be secretive about it."

"Well, make yourself comfortable. I've got to wait a little while before I can investigate." Calidus finished, standing in front of the door and folding his arms over his chest.

And so they both waited, in an odd silence - The Khajiit eying the Imperial nervously and the Imperial pulling up a chair near the door and sitting, looking casually about the cramped room.

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It had been dark for a while. The last rays of sunlight had already been disappearing when the Imperial had entered the Tiber Septim Hotel, but he tried to gauge how much time had gone by, by observing the changing of the moonlight that came through the square window of the Khajiit's room.

He had heard Lidean's companion leave earlier. He guessed that about two hours had passed between when he heard the creaking steps going by his room and now.

_It's now or never. Better get this over with._

He eased open the room door cautiously and noiselessly. His Khajiit captive had since fallen asleep, her drowsiness overtaking her despair at her situation, and at having a stranger guarding her exit, watching her in silence.

He stepped into the hallway, looking both ways to see if the coast was clear. There was no one in sight, and he detected no noise from any of the rooms. He silently approached the Councilman's room, reaching into a pouch around his waist and producing an iron lockpick. He crouched before the door, cautiously inserting the pick into the keyhole, trying to visualize the tumblers and their positions in his head. He had little experience with picking locks, and it was after a great deal of effort that he finally began to make progress, clicking the first two tumblers into place, and then, finally, he heard the last two clicks and tried slowly turning the knob. It turned.

He took a deep breath, and pushed on the door as lightly as possible, opening it just enough so he could slip in facing sideways. He sidestepped into the room, his hand reaching again for the dagger around his waist, and the door closing behind him with a tiny click.

He surveyed the room. The Redguard was asleep in the cot at the far corner of the room, facing the wall. Calidus could faintly hear his slow, rhythmic breathing. Opposite of the bed, against the wall that he faced upon entering the room, was a small nightstand, on top of which sat two books, illuminated by a small candle sitting next to them, it's faint light slowly dying as the wick descended into the bowl of wax.

Calidus slunk across the room, light on his feet, toward the nightstand. He heard no interruption in the rhythm of the Redguard's breaths. He leaned forward over the books, trying to make out the titles in the dying light. The first book had no front title, with an opaque green cover. He slowly opened the book and tried to make out the scribbles of text. It looked to be a personal log of some kind, with various signatures at the bottom of each entry. Some of the signatures belonged to Councilor Lidean, others he couldn't recognize.

He read what he could of one of Lidean's entries, occasionally glancing back at the sleeping Redguard, who still showed no signs of waking.

"We need a strong man on the throne of Tamriel" the entry read. "The Talos Cult is dedicated to the purpose of fulfilling that necessity."

From what he was able to piece together, the Talos cult appeared to be some kind of group, or society, with members from various positions in the Imperial Legion and the Imperial government.

He looked at the other book. This one had a title, emblazoned on the front color in elegant cursive letters: "Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Volume I". It was nothing he had ever heard of.

He took both books, putting them in a pack around his shoulder, and crept out of the room, the door again clicking behind him with finality as he stepped down the hall, his feet coaxing tiny creaks from the floorboards, as if they were humbly acknowledging his presence. He made his way toward the exit.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: I don't own Oblivion or The Elder Scrolls. No other announcements to make, I'm hoping the story will stand on its own when all is said and done. Hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter 3**

Calidus arrived back at the Imperial Palace, the pack containing the two books still slung over his shoulder. The emperor was waiting for him when he arrived in his personal quarters. Calidus knelt before him, his eyes focused on the ground.

"Ave, Emperor."

"Have you been able to uncover anything, informant?" the emperor asked patiently.

"I could not determine the degree of Ponius' personal involvement, but I did manage to track down one of his associates, Councilor Lidean, the Redguard. Apparently some of the councilors have been meeting in secret at the Tiber Septim Hotel. In Councilor Lidean's room, I discovered a log recording the activities of an organization called the Talos Cult, which several of the councilors and legion officers are apparently a part of. Apparently, this organization is dedicated to ensuring that a 'strong man' takes the throne of Tamriel. Exactly what that entails, I am unsure. Looking through the log with more thoroughness may give more clues."

Calidus' eyes remained on the ground, but he sensed that the emperor was disturbed to hear him mention the Talos Cult.

"Were you able to discover anything else?" the emperor asked after a moment's reflection.

"Well, In Lidean's quarters I also found a book called 'The Mythic Dawn Commentaries'. I don't know anything about the organization, but apparently they are some kind of religious Daedric cult."

The emperor said, "I've heard of the Mythic Dawn before. We've been trying to find out more about them, but we haven't had much luck so far. The Talos Cult, however, I am acutely aware of. They are an organization that has tried to plot against the Septims, hoping to replace the Septim dynasty after my death with someone they think would make a better leader than any of my sons."

"Lidean has likely realized by now that his books are missing. He ought to know that someone from outside the Talos Cult has discovered his secret. I don't think he can know for sure who is investigating him, though. "

"We're going to have to approach this carefully. We have no way of knowing how large the following of this Talos Cult is, and we don't know the nature of this Mythic Dawn group. I'm going to set you to other tasks for a while, while we see how this develops."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

For the following months, the emperor had set Calidus to more menial tasks, including sitting in on meetings between the emperor and members of the Elder Council. Calidus had gone through the Imperial archives, looking for any further information on the Mythic Dawn, but had no success. The only information he could find was information that he already knew; that the Mythic Dawn was a private, secretive organization dedicated to the Daedric lord Mehrunes Dagon.

Calidus had gotten to know the emperor in those months, almost coming to consider him as a friend. There were times, when it was just the two of them in the emperor's quarters, when Uriel's sense of humor would come through, and they would both share a laugh and sit in silence, before remembering that their relationship was nothing more than command and obedience, and would return to their respective roles as an emperor and his subject.

There hadn't been much progress on the intentions of the Talos Cult either, until finally the blades received a break in the form of a report that arrived at the Imperial Palace from Vvardenfell. Upon receiving the report, the Emperor immediately summoned Calidus to his chambers.

"We've received a report from Morrowind concerning the Talos Cult." He had said.

"Apparently the cult also had a chapter in Vvardenfell, in the town of Gnisis, which was discovered and shut down by a legion agent. This means that the Talos Cult could be much more influential and widespread than we first suspected. The agent found a letter at the cult's Vvardenfell headquarters regarding their intentions. The letter essentially called for the destruction of all three of my sons, and the election of a strongman to rule the empire after my own death. I don't need to tell you the severity of what this entails.

This Cult is dedicated to ending the Septim dynasty. It is a serious threat and we cannot let it grow more out of hand. We have to act. The letter was written by the chapter head of the Talos Cult here in Cyrodiil, who is apparently the leading man in the entire organization."

"What is his name?"

"Cidius Ponius."

Calidus furrowed his brow and looked at the ground, thinking. He looked up again at the emperor and asked, "So what do we do? For all we know half the Elder Council could be in on it."

"Maybe, but we can't afford to wait any longer. The next Council meeting is tomorrow. I've ordered a squad of palace guards to wait for you outside of the council chamber. You are going to accompany them after the meeting ends. I've ordered the palace guard to arrest Councilors Ponius and Lidean."

"Permit me to ask, my liege. Why am I required to accompany the guards in this arrest?"

"I have a bad feeling about the whole thing, and you've been trustworthy thus far. I want you to be the one to handle the arrest. You might be able to glean some information from the Councilors."

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The Palace guards were gathered immediately inside the front entrance of the Imperial palace, just outside the massive, engraved doors of the Elder Council chamber. Calidus approached and met with them, clad in the same armor that the palace guards wore. It was bleached white, with an engraving of the two opposite facing horses, symbolizing the Imperial legion, and the symbol of Talos, symbolizing Tiber Septim and the Septim dynasty.

"We have no idea how the Councilors will react, so prepare your selves. We will have to move quickly when the meeting ends." He had told them.

The heavy chamber doors began to groan open, signaling the end of the council meeting. Calidus and the guards waited silently as the councilors began to file out of the chamber, every so often casting them a glance of interest, wondering what occasion called for the collection of guards.

Councilor Ponius emerged, wrapped in elegant blue robes with an intricate design stitched into the bottom and the sleeves in gold. He was talking with Councilor Lidean, who was sporting crimson robes with a pattern of gold running down the center. Their heads were low, their faces looking toward the ground in front of them as they leaned toward one another and talked with an air of haste. Both of them looked up at the same time and stopped in their tracks upon seeing Calidus and the retinue of Imperial Guards.

Calidus faced them, his hands clasping a silver sword behind his back, with his head inclined slightly and his jaw set sternly. He was standing tall and his blue eyes were lucid and unmoving, giving him an air of dignity and authority.

"Councilor Ponius? Councilor Lidean? Both of you are under arrest for conspiring against the empire and the Septims. Do not make this worse for yourself by resisting us."

"We have done no such thing." Ponius said with the ominous precision of words formed by anger.

"That is for the empire to decide, not either of us." Calidus responded coolly. Two of the guards moved in to restrain the Councilors.

"The Septims decide nothing for me! I'd rather die! We're too late Lidean! The emperor will stop at nothing to let his foolish children pick the empire apart! We won't be taken alive!"

In a flash, Ponius' blade was unsheathed and plunging into the neck of an approaching guard. A second later, another guard had readied his blade just in time to meet that of Councilor Lidean. The other guards unsheathed their own weapons and hurried into the fray, Calidus sprinting ahead of them, his weapon already readied behind his back, to meet Councilor Ponius. Ponius met Calidus' initial few blows with his own blade without much exertion, surprising Calidus with his deftness at personal combat.

_The old man knows how to fight ,_Calidus thought, oddly amused at the prospect of falling to a fellow Imperial who was decades older than he.

The area had erupted into sounds of panic, some of the Councilors retreating back inside the council chamber, with others bolting toward the exit to alert the guards posted outside. Others, Councilors and aristocratic noble guests, had taken off in either direction down the hall.

The two Imperials met each other blow for blow, neither one of them able to pierce the defenses of the other. Calidus heard a loud cry to his right as Councilor Lidean, locked in combat with one guard, was run through from the side by another.

The guards now focused in on Ponius, who was backpedalling in desperation.

"You think you've won here!" he gasped, spit spraying from his lips. "You haven't! You're working for the destruction of the empire you claim to protect! The heirs are all fools! The Talos cult doesn't die with me!"

Ponius had lowered his guard for just a moment, but it was all Calidus had needed. He lunged forward, plunging his sword in the Councilor's belly to the hilt. The Councilor somehow remained on his feet, blood seeping from his open mouth and his nose. Another guard's blade also penetrated Ponius' flesh, and when Calidus and the guard both pulled out their blades simultaneously, the Councilor collapsed in a heap.

"Mara's grace…" Calidus uttered, standing over the Councilor's body and eyeing his blade, gleaming with a thick red coat of the Councilor's blood.

"I suppose this complicates things."

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"Nine hells" Uriel Septim VII uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "A pitched battle in the Imperial Palace, right outside the Council chamber. A palace guard and two Elder Councilors dead. This is even worse than I thought."

"I'm sorry, my liege. It couldn't be avoided." Calidus said as he assumed his routine stance; kneeling, with his eyes on the floor.

"I believe you," the emperor said, "But some on the council aren't so sure. They've been questioning your temperament, wondering if you acted brashly, wondering if you're becoming a liability."

"If you wish for me to lie low, emperor, I will gladly do so."

"We still need your abilities, agent. I can't afford for them to go unused in the coming days. However, I think a change of assignment would be better for both of us. We don't know if we've really killed the Talos Cult. There are probably elements out there, still plotting against my sons. I'm not concerned with my own life. I think my enemies, whomever they may be, will be content to let me live out my final years. But my sons are still in danger, and they are the real targets of the Talos Cult.

I'm sending you to look after my youngest son, Ebel. He will assign your specific duties as he sees fit. I'd also like you to tutor him. I've looked at your service records. You seem well versed in the areas of politics and kingship. Ebel has little experience with either of those areas. I'm not a young man anymore. Time is running out, and I need all three of my sons to be ready for when I'm gone."

"Where is Prince Ebel?"

"He is currently a guest at the court of Count Hassildor of Skingrad. You are to report to him immediately."

"Understood, my liege."

Calidus stood and turned to leave.

"Publius?" the emperor called after him.

"Yes, emperor?" Calidus replied, turning around. He was surprised to hear the Emperor call him by his most casual name.

"I've had more of the dreams. Remember the ones I was telling you about? They all tell me that some kind of darkness is approaching. But I've also had a dream about a coming light. Someone or something to guide us through the darkness. The Nine will guide and protect us, always. We can't forget that in the times to come."

"Yes…emperor." Calidus said quietly.

He turned again and disappeared out of the emperor's quarters, leaving Uriel Septim alone in the room. He stood and looked at the doorway long after Calidus had disappeared, his hand rubbing the dark red amulet that was draped around his neck.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: I don't own Oblivion, or any of the games or lore of the Elder Scrolls series, including the lore discussed in this chapter. To Bethesda Softworks goes the glory.

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Calidus never much liked the feel of Skingrad. The Colovian stone buildings seemed to reach over and smother the otherwise quaint cobblestone pathways, giving the city streets a feeling of claustrophobia and confusion. The sun was bright and welcoming, the street crowded with bustling merchants and craftsmen, with people disappearing into and emerging from the various shops and taverns of the city. Stone-faced priests walked with steely composure through the crowds, unmindful of the chatter around them. Calidus picked his way through the crowd, blending in dressed in his casual hooded brown robes. He winded through the mazelike pathways, toward the towering minarets of castle Skingrad looming in the distance over the thatched roofs of the shops and houses.

He entered the great hall of the castle, the buzzing of the city giving way to the quiet of the castle interior and the echoing of his footsteps. He made his way down the hall, which opened into a broad, modestly furnished reception area. There were a few others in the room. Two city guardsmen, clad in red chainmail bearing the crescent moon symbol of the city of Skingrad, stood at attention and nodded in acknowledgement to him as he entered. An Altmer scholar sat in one corner of the room reading, while an Argonian, a castle attendant, spoke with an Orc near the stairway that lead up to the living quarters of the count.

Upon seeing Calidus enter, the Argonian broke off her conversation with the Orc and approached him, coming closer to reveal the green scales on her face that turned to red-brown approaching the top of her head.

"Are you coming to see the count, Imperial?" the Argonian asked, trying to transform her naturally foreboding dagger teeth into the semblance of a polite smile.

"I'm here to visit his guest, Prince Ebel." Calidus replied. "I'm here on business from the Imperial palace and the Blades. My name is Publius Galerius Calidus."

"Oh, right. The count and prince have been expecting you. They told me to let you go on up to the count's quarters. I believe that the prince and the count are currently eating in the dining hall. They'll be expecting you."

Calidus thanked her and headed up the stairs. The private quarters were eerily quiet and empty, and Calidus wandered through the elegantly decorated halls, passing landscape paintings of the city and of the foliage of the great forest that dominated western and central Cyrodiil. The halls were sumptuously decorated and lavishly carpeted, with the candles placed along the wall at every few steps lighting up the marble white walls and making them glow brightly. He wandered for a few long moments, wondering if he had managed to get lost. Finally, he heard voices around a corner and followed them, entering a tiny room dominated by a long, polished dining table. The count and the prince were speaking casually, the count in his characteristic dark burgundy coat and the prince wearing fine red silk garments that seemed to add volume and darkness to his black goatee.

The count was the first one to see him enter, his peculiarly hazy and colorless eyes turning to meet those of Calidus. The prince had finished his last thought aloud, before he too noticed the Imperial and fell silent.

Prince Ebel was the youngest of Uriel's three sons, although the closeness in age between the three Septim princes, and the fact that Ebel was a grown man in his early fifties meant that outside of his immediate family he was able to avoid the caricature of being the coddled "baby" of the family. His eyes resembled those of Uriel - perceptive and intelligent – although despite a few wrinkles, they did not have the drooping of age or the kind wisdom that Calidus always saw in Ebel's father. The prince's face did not have the patient, endearing countenance of Uriel, but rather a certain fierceness; an eagerness for action and the proof of one's abilities. Uriel had that same fierceness, as Calidus could often sense, but the emperor kept it submissive to his inner strength, controlling it and channeling it to the point where it could never control him. Calidus saw in Prince Ebel's face that he had not come to inherit that certain ability.

"You must be…the blade?" Count Hassildor asked after studying the Imperial.

"Count Hassildor? Prince Ebel? I'm Blade Calidus. I was sent to report to the Prince for his service. I've been instructed to report to you from here on out, my prince."

He bowed low to both of the seated men. Prince Ebel looked visibly annoyed with the rigidness of the agent's composure, but his expression quickly changed to a welcoming grin.

"There will be no need for formalities, agent. I know who you are. I don't share my father's incessant need for order and 'civility'. I prefer to engage people as my friends, not as my underlings. Things are much less complicated that way, wouldn't you agree?"

The prince motioned for Calidus to take a seat opposite of him and the count.

"Oh, I don't know," Calidus said with hesitation, reaching for the chair in front of him. "I'm not used to breaking etiquette with royalty, but if you want things casual, I suppose that's fine."

Ebel chucked as Calidus took his seat. The count had momentarily withdrawn from the conversation, his eyes looking toward Calidus but registering nothing, as if he had retreated into his own mind for private contemplation. Finally he returned to the moment and his eyes locked onto Publius'. He leaned forward and interjected with a question.

"Your reputation preceeds you, Calidus. Apparently you've made quite a name for yourself in the Imperial court. The emperor himself swears by you. I'm not sure why he would send you here, though, considering the news that has come out of the Imperial City. It is true? Two Elder Councilmen conspiring against the Septims? A battle in the Council chamber?"

"It's true. They were part of an organization called the Talos Cult. We don't know nearly as much as we'd like to about them, nor do we know if Councilors Lidean and Ponius were the only conspirators. That's the main reason why I'm here. The cult seems to want to specifically target the Septim heirs, rather than the emperor himself. The emperor wanted Prince Ebel to be well protected."

"That's just like my father," Ebel sighed quietly, shaking his head slightly. "Always worried about every little thing. Always quick to overreact to the tiniest situation. Just like Geldall. I bet this cult turns out to be nothing more than a tiny group of fringe lunatics who pose no real threat. There's no shortage of petty conspirators like these."

"'Petty conspirators'?" The count blurted with astonishment. "There was a massacre in the Imperial Palace! I think the cult is well worth keeping an eye on. I think the emperor was justified in sparing you a little more protection."

"Another agent also discovered a cult hideout in Morrowind." Calidus said, as astonished as the Count was at the Prince's indifference.

"That's a sure sign of the influence this organization has. For all we know they could have bases all over the empire."

"Or maybe the cult died with the Councilors." Ebel replied casually, seemingly unaware of the disturbed expressions on the other men's faces. "At any rate, I suppose it's nice to have another agent in my retinue. And from what I hear, you're one of the most capable in all Tamriel."

He waited for Calidus to respond, but the Imperial said nothing.

"Now…" the prince continued after a moment of silence, "let us continue our previous discussion. Calidus, do you know anything about history? Specifically, the wars of Tiber Septim? I hear you're well versed in military tactics."

"I suppose I am."

"I was telling the Prince about the defeat of Admiral Richton by Hammerfell at the hands of the Restless League at Stros M'Kai harbor." Said Count Hassildor.

"What about it?" Calidus asked casually.

"Isn't it fascinating?" Ebel broke in. "The only major setback to Tiber Septim's conquests, delivered at the hands of a collection of rebel Redguard brigands, led by the sibling agents Cyrus and Iszara? It's almost beyond belief that the Imperial fleet could have been defeated so decisively, especially by such a weak opponent."

"Well, you're underestimating the capabilities the Restless League had, and the amount of support it was able to gain in Hammerfell beforehand." Calidus replied. "Admiral Richton made the same mistake. He thought he was dealing with a disorganized and unprepared group of insurgent rebels, and instead it was he who was taken off guard. He lacked respect for his opponent, and his arrogance cost him the battle, Stros M'Kai, and his own life."

"But Admiral Richton was the greatest naval tactician in the empire at the time!" Ebel responded. "The loss of Stros M'Kai can't be attributed entirely to overconfidence. He was clearly a capable man. Look at Hunding Bay. He routed the Crowns under Prince A'Tor, who was the very best the Redguards had to offer."

"Success breeds overconfidence, I suppose. Prince A'Tor was also killed in that battle, leaving the Crown fleet leaderless, with most of the ships wandering aimlessly and looking after themselves. At Stros M'Kai, there was no lack of organization. It was a coordinated effort against an overconfident foe. Richton had intelligence, but he let his impatience get the better of him."

Count Hassildor looked amused at the exchange. His eyes had darted back and forth between the two men, finally coming to rest on Ebel.

"Agent Calidus may be a good companion for you yet, my prince. He seems to share your love of argument."

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Prince Ebel did not bother sending Calidus into the field to do real work as his agent, but was rather content to keep him at his side as his bodyguard and advisor, and at times as his drinking buddy. Calidus taught the prince the arts of personal combat, as well as court politics and the issues confronting the provinces. The prince proved eager to learn but easy to frustrate, at times venting with outbursts and curses when he met an obstacle. He was always hungry for competition, quick to challenge Calidus to a spar or any sort of contest. It hardly mattered to Ebel what the challenge involved, so long as it provided him an opportunity to outdo his advisor.

It wasn't long before Calidus got used to Ebel's laidback outlook on court life, and he soon found himself at ease with the Prince in a way he was with almost no one else, save for the Emperor himself. Their relationship had few formalities, and Ebel's taste for expensive parties and vice brought Calidus back to his previous years as a legionnaire, causing him to drop his guard and open up to the Prince, allowing him to forget, for a time, the pressures of looking after the Septim family.

"Tell you what, Pub…" Ebel would say after a few drinks, constantly thinking of new pet names for his compatriot, "Less go outside for some target practice. If you somehow manage to bess me, I'll let you choose a girl, any girl in this who-ole city, to spend the night wiss. Pick the girl, an' I'll make it 'appen. I'm a pahrful man, y'see. Y'up for it, Cal?"

Calidus would accept the challenge with a chuckle, and the two of them would venture out into the foggy woods outside of Castle Skingrad with their bows and compete, both of them hopelessly incompetent due to their inebriation, until finally one of them would hit their mark, and depending on the result, the Prince would either cackle with triumphant laughter, or curse up a storm and stomp back toward the castle before the agent would have a chance to mock him.

At the Prince's urging, Calidus abandoned his traditional brown robes for formal, green silk attire.

"I need my agents looking professional, you understand." Ebel had explained.

Their companionship came to be well known.

"You know, there is serious work Calidus could be doing for you, Ebel." Count Hassildor had said as the two imperials entered the great hall upon returning from a night out, his royal composure obscuring his secret amusement. "I doubt Uriel sent him here on vacation, to enjoy the extravagant royal lifestyle."

"My father sent Calie here to follow my orders." Ebel replied, his arm resting heavily on Calidus' shoulder. "And I've given him strict orders to live life like the world is about to end. And Calie is following those orders splendidly, I might add."

The two had laughed and parted ways for the night.

"Oh, to be young and in love." The Count had quipped dryly.

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Calidus was surprised not to see Prince Ebel waiting for him that evening in the castle courtyard as they had planned. He had waited for a few minutes, watching the approaching night smothering the last light of the paling, semicircular sun as it kept a toehold on the horizon. A breeze ruffled his hair, which had grown longer and shaggier during his time in the Prince's service, and he could hear unseen insects begin their nightly chirping.

_Maybe he just forgot about tonight._ Calidus decided, and headed inside to look for the Prince.

Calidus entered the private quarters and stopped short as the Count, Prince Ebel, and another man were all gathered and in the middle of a discussion.

"…I've been hearing all kinds of things about your antics, Ebel. Do you think it makes us look good when the talk of Cyrodiil revolves around how you're living the 'good life'? The Empire could be in serious trouble soon, because no one trusts us like they trusted our father. The last thing we need is for your vices to bring us more negative attention."

The man was facing away from Calidus as he entered, but as he approached, the man turned to face him. He was thin and gaunt, standing slightly taller than Ebel. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was oiled and drawn back into a ponytail. He was wearing adorned violet robes, the various insignias and jewelry signifying a person of august authority. Although Calidus had never met the man in person before, he was able to guess quite quickly who he was. Geldall Septim, the crown prince to the throne of Tamriel.

Geldall eyed Calidus, then turned back toward his brother, pointing at the entering Imperial.

"Is this the companion of yours I've heard so much about? The agent who's supposed to be working for you?"

"Yes, Geldall." Ebel replied. "That's Calidus, the agent father sent. To do as I ask. I have nothing to ask of him, nor did I request father to send anyone. He was just being his usual overprotective self."

Geldall looked back at Calidus, and kept his eyes on him as he asked Ebel another question.

"You've been keeping him around all this time as your drinking buddy? What do you even know about him? Do you even know if he's loyal?"

"Of course he's loyal! What kind of question is that? Father kept him around, didn't he?"

"Father's always been too trusting," Geldall said, his cold eyes remaining on Calidus. "I don't like the looks of him. Especially when we know there's conspirators roaming about all over the empire."

He cocked his head a little, still focused on Calidus, as if expecting the agent to say something to defend himself, but the Blade said nothing.

"Oh, give me a break Geldall!" Ebel blurted angrily. "If he were going to stick a knife in my back he would have done it already. He's fine. He's supposed to be one of the best agents the empire's got. He's become a good friend to me. He could be your friend too if you would relax."

"This is the agent that discovered the Talos Cult in the first place, Prince Geldall." The Count added. "I really think he is trustworthy. There is hardly cause for concern."

"Oh, he's a friend of yours?" Geldall asked sarcastically to Ebel. "That makes me feel a lot better, considering you'll be friends with anyone who gives you a bottle of skooma."

"Oh, you know that's not true, brother!" Ebel shouted.

_No wonder Uriel doesn't think these two are ready._ Calidus thought, observing the two bickering Imperials.

_They're children in men's bodies._

"Brother Ebel, I'm only going to say this to you one more time. You are a Septim, and you have serious responsibilities to the empire. It's high time that you started acting the part. We just can't afford any more embarrassments from you."

Geldall stepped closer to Calidus, and said in a low tone,

"And I'm going to keep an eye on this one, even if you won't."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I don't own Oblivion, or any of the games and lore of the Elder Scrolls series.

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**Chapter 5**

"Oh, it's a splendid day to watch some fights, don't you think, Cal?" Ebel was saying as he and Calidus rode side by side across the great bridge leading to the gates of the Imperial City.

Prince Ebel had been invited to the games at the arena as the guest of honor; an offer the arena had made in order to increase turnout and profits, and that Ebel had accepted because he loved to be seen in public. The Prince had eagerly invited Calidus to accompany him as his bodyguard. The two Imperials were casually dressed, Calidus in a brown quilted doublet with worn brown pants and cloth shoes, and the Prince dressed as an aristocrat in black silk. Their intent was to keep a low profile until the Prince could reach the arena.

The great bridge was empty save for the column of city guards and blades flanking Ebel and Calidus, some on horseback and some following along on foot. It was a typical summer's day, with the sun reflecting brightly off the water of Lake Rumare and the air calm and quiet, with clear skies overhead but storm clouds looming in the distance.

The convoy reached the stables just outside of the city gates. Ebel and Calidus dismounted, and were subsequently ushered into the city by a small vanguard of soldiers. They moved quickly through the city, making a beeline through the streets heading directly east. They made their way through the Elven Gardens District and Green Emperor Way, a circle of graves and monuments surrounding the towering façade of the Imperial Palace, which jutted upward into the sky, the very top of its tower becoming more invisible as one approached its base.

They hurried through the district gates and arrived at the arena, the Prince and his entourage being whisked through a private entrance and making their way up a few flights of stone stairs that were enclosed by grimy, dungeon-esque walls so narrow, that the group had to climb them single-file. The hollow sounds of the breeze sweeping through the entrance and up the stairway gave way to the dull roar of the crowd as the retinue reached the top of the stairs and emerged into the personal observation booth reserved for guests of honor; usually either the emperor himself or another important figure in the empire.

The dull humming they had heard on their way up the steps exploded into wild cheering as they emerged into the open and were greeted with the arena in all its glory. The stands were packed with spectators, who shouted approval and pointed toward the booth as Ebel emerged first, followed by Calidus and another Blade, Glenroy.

The booth had all of the amenities of a court banquet; the collection of seats reserved for the emperor and his guests were intricately patterned and deeply cushioned, fashioned out of polished wood. They faced a small end table on which sat a collection of goblets, already filled with wine, a pitcher that was likewise filled to the brim, two ceramic plates of bread and cheese, and all of the proper eating utensils. The roof blocked out any sunlight that may have inhibited the view of the games below, and the red and violet drapery around the opening of the booth sported the all too familiar insignias of the Septim dynasty.

A gruff, booming voice was introducing the Prince to the crowd.

"Citizens of the Empire! It is our honor to present to you, as our guest of honor for today's events, none other than his eminency, his Excellency, his mightiness, Prince Ebel Septim, son of Uriel!"

"Tell me Cal, how do the masses live?" Ebel quipped, gleeful and enthusiastic, as he moved to take his seat.

"I couldn't tell you, my lord."

Calidus took a seat next to the Prince and helped himself to a slice of bread as Glenroy stood on guard by the entryway. He was outfitted in the traditional Akaviri armor of the Blades, with tightly interlocking steel ribs that formed a protective scaling, and an open faced helmet from which flat arms protruded to cover the jaw.

The very first preliminary events of the day were already taking place as a precursor to the main battles; novice fighters, clad in what hardly amounted to more than blue and yellow kilts, were sloppily swinging at each other with war hammers, both of them looking anxious, pained and desperate. Calidus noted as both fighters often left themselves open for an opportunity for the other to strike, but neither were experienced enough to see it.

"Permit me to question, Ebel," Calidus began after a moment of hesitation, "But isn't this the sort of high profile fanfare that Prince Geldall advised you against earlier?"

"Ugh, Cal, don't even mention my brother today. He's been exceptionally bad lately, never missing an opportunity to lecture me on the finer points of pretentiousness and tightassity. And when he runs out of things to insult about me, he starts ranting about you. He thinks you're nothing but trouble for me, believe it or not."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm. He told me that everywhere you go, trouble follows. I assured him that it's you that follows the trouble, not the other way around. You're not a conspirator, you're just insane."

Calidus smiled amusedly, his eyes still fixated on the fighting below. Both of the combatants were losing energy, and the one in yellow nursed a wounded arm while still trying to hold up his hammer. The humming of the crowd was growing louder in anticipation, and from the mass of spectators there rose an air of alertness as they realized that the duel could soon be ended. His eyes picked through the crowd below. He noticed a man and a woman, the woman in drab clothing and the man in a peculiar red robe, speaking to one another, seemingly unmindful of the duel that was taking place and the noises of the crowd. The man, a Dunmer, kept peeking timidly toward the booth, his eyes darting back toward the woman, a Nord, before they could meet Calidus' gaze. There was something about the Dunmer that piqued the Imperial's interest. Something about him seemed anxious; almost fearful.

A loud crack and a storm of gasping from the crowd brought his attention back to the fight. The combatant in blue had finally made the decisive blow, his hammer smashing into the head of the opposing fighter, crushing through his thin, flimsy iron helmet and, as Calidus judged from the vapid expression on the duelist's face and haze that overcame his eyes, fragmenting his skull. The duelist remained on his feet for about a second, before dropping with a heavy thud that was audible even in the booth. The crowd roared with excitement. Drunken spectators were laughing, trading bet money, and slapping one another on the back. Calidus saw a Bosmer, obviously not used to the grisly appeal of the games, slouch in his seat, his hands covering his mouth and eyes.

"Ouch…" Ebel was saying. "I have a sneaking suspicion that he is not getting up."

Calidus looked toward where he had seen the Dunmer and Nord. The Dunmer had disappeared, and the woman was making her way up the stands, hobbling up the steps and pushing through the crowd as she made her way up so far as to be at an even level with the booth. She was clasping something in her left hand, although Calidus couldn't make out what it was.

The novice duels were followed by a crowd favorite, a re-creation of a famous battle, to be played out by arena gladiators. The announcer's voice was booming:

"Noble spectators, citizens of the glorious empire, let us travel back to an era before our own! It is an era we remember and revere! The era of Tiber Septim, General Talos, the founder of our glorious empire and the vanguard of our era! Let us relive one of his most memorable battles, the Battle of Sancre Tor!"

A throng of gladiators were filing out of the gates on either side of the arena. The two sides organized into formations, facing one another. One side was made up exclusively of Imperials, the other was a smattering of Nords and Bretons. The Imperial side was lopsidedly large in comparison to their opposition.

"It is the year 852 of the Second Era. Cyrodiil is beset by enemies from all sides. A formidable army of Bretons and Nords, allies against the Colovians, have invaded Cyrodiil from the north, holding up in the treacherous passes of the Jerall Mountains in the dead of winter and plotting the demise of the hopelessly unprepared Cyrodiilic forces. They are confident that their foe stands no chance against them. But they have not counted on the brilliance and courage of the Cyrodiil general. He is to be the greatest military leader Tamriel has ever known. He is General Talos!"

The audience greeted the name with a smattering of applause.

"But the Bretons and Nords are arrogant. They are not content to stay in their impermeable position and wait for Talos to come to them. Instead, they sally forth to meet General Talos in a pitched battle!"

The group representing the Breton-Nord alliance advanced on the Imperial team. Suddenly, the gate behind them grinded open and another group of Imperials emerged, trapping them between the two groups. One of the newly emerged Imperials was wearing a unique breastplate engraved with the dragon symbol. He was intended to represent Tiber Septim himself.

"But General Talos was counting on this! He left a small portion of his army in the open for the enemy to attack, while he and the rest of his army climbed the treacherous cliffs to surround them! And now we shall see again the victory that made the man that made the Empire! Let the battle begin!"

The vastly outnumbered Breton-Nordic team were cut to pieces from both sides, with the Imperial team taking only a few losses, as just when a Breton was about to land a critical blow or a Nord about to counter a maneuver, a blade would be plunged into their back or an axe would cleave their neck from behind. It occurred then to Calidus while listening to the roaring approval from the crowd, if only for a brief moment, how sadistic the whims of a mob could become. Each cry of agony, each wound slashed open, each slowly widening pool of blood on the dirt ground of the arena fed into a hunger for mutilation that only increased as it was satisfied.

"I wish they could pack more gladiators into these reenactments." Ebel said. "It would be more fun that way. I hardly get the feeling of a real battle from this. There are only, what, thirty or so men down there?"

"I doubt any arena match could give you sensation of a real battle, my Prince." Calidus responded with annoyance.

"You have seen real battles before, haven't you, Calidus? Tell me, what is it like, really? And don't give me any of that dramatic, 'war is so awful, it destroys lives' nonsense."

"War is awful. It destroys lives."

"Oh, come on!"

"Alright, alright. Being in battle…it's hard to describe. You feel everything going on around you, and you know that you could be killed at any moment. There are people behind you pushing you forward, there's arrows flying over your head, there're people lying at your feet, writhing in pain and bleeding out on the ground. But you hardly take notice of that. All you're paying attention to is the person right in front of you. And you're just waiting for them to make the first move. You can see that he's scared out of his mind, and it's only then that you realize that you are, too. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't affect you in any way; you just keep pushing forward, keeping your weapon in between you and the mass of foes pushing the other way, and you try to hack through anything that gets in your way. Everything moves in slow motion. It's just…"

Calidus stopped, realizing that he was stammering and getting lost in his own thoughts. He turned his face toward Ebel, who was wearing a curious expression, with his eyes narrowed slightly and his lips drawn, the bristling whiskers of his goatee thrusting outward.

"…It's incredible. That's the only word I can think of. There's nothing else like it. As horrifying as it was, I felt no greater calling than the voice in my head that urged me to keep fighting. To keep fighting for my honor, my Gods, and my comrades. Whenever I was on a battlefield, there was no place I would rather have been."

Ebel was silent for a moment, before asking, "Did you never feel any remorse? For the people you killed, I mean."

"It was hard at first." Calidus responded. "But it got easier. You started to no longer think of that person as another man or mer like yourself, in the sense that you cared about their life back home or their family or anything like that. You only cared about the threat they posed to you, and you dealt with that threat by eliminating it with your own abilities. It wasn't so much about killing after a while. It was a contest."

Ebel let out a grunt to signify his acceptance of the agent's description.

"Hard to imagine."

Calidus looked again out into the crowd. The noise had dulled to a dim buzzing, as spectators waited patiently for the next event: a hunt involving the most exotic animals from the far reaches of the empire. Arena workers were dragging the corpses of dead Nords and Bretons through the sand and toward the exits, some of their bodies leaving a streak of blood on the ground that ran from the body to the pool that sat where they had first fallen. He looked again off to where he had seen the Nord woman and the Dunmer in red robes, wondering idly if the oddly dressed Dunmer had returned. But instead his eyes were met with a sharp glint of light. He focused in on the source. It had come from the Nord woman. She was mumbling some form of incantation.

With a swirl of light, a bow appeared in her hands, the dark red, black and dull violet colors signifying a Daedric style bow. He then saw what she had been carrying, a tightly wrapped bundle of arrows. Her face had taken on an intense form of purpose, her eyes now narrowly focused in on the booth where he and the Prince sat. With a smooth motion, she knocked the arrow on the bow, pulled the string back with a professional crispness, and took aim directly at Prince Ebel.

He had no time to warn the Prince verbally. With one swift motion, he launched himself from his seat, causing it to wobble wildly despite its size, and connected his shoulders with the Prince's side, causing the Prince's chair to crash on its side, spilling both men onto the floor. Calidus had let out a cry mid-motion as the arrow screeched through the air into the booth, pelting into his side between his ribs as he and the Prince hit the floor.

He was baring his teeth, growling and cursing, partially blinded by pain. He remained on top of Ebel, instinctively shielding him with his own body. Ebel looked too stunned to voice a response, and the eyes of both men quickly shifted to the booth entrance as Glenroy yelped with surprise. Calidus fought his pain to turn his body just enough to focus on the Blade. A knife was wrapping around his throat from behind, and Glenroy had just enough time to catch the hands of the red robed Dunmer with his own arms and kick backward, sending the Dunmer backpedalling with a grunt and sparing himself a quick and grisly death.

The crowd below had broken into a panic, the few people immediately surrounding the armed Nord rushing to subdue her, and others pushing against one another, unaware of what was developing but following the tide of panic that had quickly swept through the stands.

Glenroy had bought himself just enough time to draw his katana, its curved blade glinting as the Blade brandished it and held it steady. The Imperial and the Dunmer stood facing one another for a moment, the Dark Elf taking a sideways stance, holding the dagger in front of him with one hand with the blade pointing downward, in the position most suited to stabbing. Glenroy held his katana with both hands, keeping the blade pointing forward to force the Dunmer to keep his distance.

Calidus rolled sideways with another outcry, as Ebel tried to stumble to his feet, his hands fumbling for the hilt of his sword.

"Keep low! The Goddamned archer!" Calidus barked.

Ebel quickly crouched low, but no more arrows came, as the Nord woman had been tackled to the ground and smothered by the crowd below. He crept toward Glenroy and the Dunmer, his blade held carefully in front of him.

"Stay back, my Lord!" Glenroy shouted, his eyes still focused on the Dunmer. Finally, the standoff ended, the Dunmer leaping toward the Imperial and kicking him, hoping him to throw him off balance and bring the dagger down into his neck. Ebel brought his sword up quickly over his head and took a sloppy hack just as the Dunmer was landing and off balance. His blade connected with the Dunmer's left hand, the assassin screaming as his thumb and index finger were severed. The Dunmer dropped his blade in his surprise and barely managed to dodge another swing of Glenroy's katana, maneuvering around the Prince and the Blade and edging toward the opening of the booth, nursing a hand now covered in blood, with only a short barrier between himself and the open air and masses of the arena.

Calidus had managed, through blinding pain, to pull himself to his feet, his body hunched and shaking. He had made his way toward Glenroy and Ebel. Harnessing the little experience he had received in the arts of magicka, he muttered under his breath and held out his hands toward the Dunmer. A single bolt of electricity shot from his fingers and hit the Dunmer squarely in the chest. The assassin barely managed to remain on his feet, and in a last ditch effort to escape, he vaulted himself out of the booth and into the crowd below, where he disappeared in the midst of a force of guards.

Glenroy ran to the opening and shouted to the guards below.

"Make sure our exit is clear! The Prince doesn't leave until we know our way out of here is safe!"

Calidus eased himself onto the end table, the arrow still protruding from his side. He tenderly grasped the end, pulling gently as blood welled and stained his clothing around the wound. With a final grimace of preparation, he pulled the sharp arrowhead out of the wound, emitting another low grunt of pain.

Ebel was still in shock, and it was after several seconds that he finally regained enough composure to speak.

"Cal…you…you're hurt. It looks bad."

"We'll get you to the palace where we're sure you'll be safe. We don't know if there are any more assassins. A healer can look at me then."

"Right…the palace…" The Prince's voice was shaking and barely audible.

After a few minutes, more guards appeared at the entryway to inform them that the way was believed to be safe.

"No sign of trouble between here and the Palace." One of the guards said.

"Alright, let's get moving then." Glenroy responded. "We can't afford to wait. Don't let your guard down."

One of the guards helped Calidus back to his feet, Calidus wrapping his arm over the guard's shoulder. He looked at Glenroy and the other guards as they filed out ahead of Ebel, and felt a twinge of confusion as he thought he caught Glenroy throw a cold glare in his direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Comments: I have to admit, I wasn't planning on developing so much back story before the beginning of the events of Oblivion's Main Quest line. However, I am rapidly approaching the beginning of Oblivion's storyline and I think the back story will tie into things nicely. I appreciate the comments that have been given, and will always appreciate others. This story is going to consume much time and effort, but I'm hoping it will be worth it for the end result, provided the storyline and themes work out the way I currently have planned. But no more yapping, here's chapter 6. Hope you enjoy. As always, I do not own Oblivion.

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**Chapter 6 **

Calidus remembered little of how he came to be back at the Imperial Palace. The herbal remedy the healer had given him to dull the pain of his wound had made his most immediate memories seem hazy, and his mind numb. He remembered having both of his arms around the necks of two guardsmen, who slowly carried him through the plazas and the wide streets of the Imperial City to the doors of the palace entrance. Prince Ebel, having gone uninjured, was able to move at a much faster pace with his escort, being hurried ahead by his guards, and he arrived at the palace considerably sooner than the agent did in his afflicted state.

He awoke in a small cot against the wall of a small, undecorated room. He still felt a dull, thudding pain in his side, but he had rested enough that he was able to stand under his own power and block it out of his mind, rising from the cot to walk around. He looked down at himself to notice that his bloodied doublet had been c hanged for a casual tan cloth shirt.

He made his way to the door, pulling it open carefully so as not to aggravate his injury. He stepped into what appeared to be a small lounge, a few chairs and tables interspersed throughout the room, with a row of bookshelves at the far end. He wasn't sure exactly what part of the palace he was in. He certainly hadn't explored this area before.

_I may as well make myself comfortable for a while_. Calidus thought. _If they want to talk to me about what happened, they'll come to me._

He approached the row of bookshelves, carefully pulling some of them out slightly to examine their titles. He found a copy of a book he had always enjoyed, _The Mirror_, and settled down in one of the chairs to read it. The book had always reminded him of his days as a Legion trooper.

He was in the middle of the book, lost in its pages, when he was startled by a voice that broke the silence.

"You're up. " Ebel said. "We were worried about you. How are you feeling?"

"Better." Said Calidus.

"That's good. I apologize for not coming to check on you sooner. I've been talking to my father and Geldall. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I didn't get the chance to do so back at the arena. You've been a great friend and companion to me. I'll never forget it."

There was something morose about the Prince's tone of voice, and Calidus could tell that something serious was on his mind.

"I did my job, nothing more nothing less." He replied. "What about the assassins? Have we been able to learn anything about them?"

"No." Ebel replied, shaking his head in slow disappointment. "They were both killed by the crowds before the guards could take them into custody to interrogate them. We have no idea who they were, whether they were acting alone or were hired by some organization, or what their motives could have been."

Calidus grimaced.

"Does that mean we're back to where we started? Knowing that people want you dead but not being able to find out who they are or how we can stop them? Just waiting for the next attack?"

Ebel said nothing.

Again Calidus had the feeling that the Prince knew something important that he was too reluctant to share.

"Is something else going on, Ebel?" he asked.

"It's Geldall, as always. He went ballistic when he heard about the attack. He said that you've gotten too friendly with our family. He said that you've brought nothing but trouble to us. He told my father…"

"What?"

"…he told my father that he thinks you're working for whoever is trying to kill us. He thinks you're a Talos Cult agent, or one of those weird Mythic Dawn people. He's gotten completely paranoid with everything that's been going on. I think he wants you out of the picture because your friendship with my father and I is a threat to him. He's produced an order for your arrest."

"That's insane." Calidus replied. "I've been nothing but loyal and obedient. Why would I have saved you if I wanted you dead? What about evidence? Your father surely wouldn't believe him. Especially without any evidence. He knows me better than that."

"I'm not sure what my father thinks." Ebel said. "But there's an emergency meeting scheduled tomorrow between the Emperor, Geldall, Enman, The Elder Council, and myself. The purpose of the meeting is to decide what action to take in response to the attempt on my life, and that includes what to do about you. Some on the Council know you're innocent and have defended you. Others think you've gained too much influence over the court and want you expelled from the Blades. And then there are a few people, some of the leaders of the Elder Council who…who have called for your execution."

Calidus mumbled a curse to himself.

"That can't be…it makes no sense! I'm the one who's been bending over backwards trying to keep your family safe! I'm the one who discovered the Talos Cult's plot in the first place! I'm innocent of any wrongdoing!"

"I know that," Ebel replied, his voice high. "And they know that too. It's all political, don't you see? It doesn't matter that you're innocent. Pinning you as part of the conspiracy will eliminate you as a threat to the political ambitions of my brother and some others on the Elder Council. Geldall doesn't want you on my side, because if you're helping me I might be competent enough to keep his power in check once he becomes the Emperor. It's a completely political move!"

"They can't just sentence me and run me through without one scrap of evidence supporting their claims, can they? They have to follow the law…" Calidus was saying, his voice low and breaking with disbelief.

"Remember when you were telling me about how the Tribunal Temple persecuted the Dissident Priests in Morrowind? How they knew the priests were doing right, but the Temple needed a scapegoat to keep hold of the reigns of power? That's what they're doing to you! They don't care about justice! They want a scapegoat. And since they don't have any conspirators in custody, that scapegoat is going to be you. It would look bad if after the attempt on my life, the Elder Council didn't have anything to show for their investigations. That would make for a lot of angry citizens."

Calidus was silent for a long moment, before his eyes looked up again to meet those of Ebel, whose pursed, frowning lips were obscured by his goatee, which had grown longer and scragglier in recent weeks.

"But you're going to be at that meeting, right? You can defend me, can't you?"

"I'm going to give it my best shot, absolutely. But I don't know what good I'll be able to do. They think you've been messing with my mind in the process of tutoring me. Any defense I make for you they can attribute to the amount of influence you've allegedly had on me."

"Emperor Uriel knows I'm innocent too, though." Calidus said. "Maybe you and he together can convince the Council."

"As I said, I'll do everything I can. I don't want them to get away with this. You've done too much for me for Geldall and his cronies to just send you down the river."

"So that's how it's going to be…" Calidus mumbled. Ebel was silent.

"I just want you to know, Calidus." He said after a moment. "This may be your last day in my service. I just wanted you to know that you've been an exceptional friend to…to me…"

Ebel's voice was shaking. Calidus was stunned to see the Prince fighting to choke back tears. He stood up to comfort him, and to his surprise, the Prince threw his arms around him in an embrace. After patting him on the shoulder a few times, the Prince pulled away, his eyes on the ground.

"Listen." Calidus said, attempting to sound cheerful. "It's not over 'till it's over. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, I have a feeling I'll come back from it."

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Calidus waited impatiently in a holding room outside of the Elder Council chambers, the entrance flanked by two armored guards. For the last two hours, the Councilors and the Imperial royal family had been meeting to determine a course of action. Calidus had paced around the holding room, where he had been kept under constant watch since shortly after his last conversation with Prince Ebel. He rubbed his clean-shaven chin with his hand, his mind in a million places at once.

_How much longer will they be?_ He thought. _It's been hours. How much more time could they need?_

As if in response to the thoughts in his head, another guard appeared at the entrance and addressed Calidus.

"Sir? The Council is finished deliberating. They want you to be present in the chamber to hear their verdicts. If you would come with me."

The guards escorted him out of the room and down to the first floor of the Imperial palace. Calidus kept his silence. He felt no fear, which was a surprise to himself. He had the soundness of mind of a man who had come to accept the fact that his fate was no longer in his own hands, and that he would have to accept any verdict that the Council handed down.

They approached the doors of the Council chamber and entered, Calidus taken aback by the density of the crowd of Councilors, Palace Officials, and the royal family and their retinues. The Council was seated in chairs that made up a broad circle that dominated the chamber. The Septim family, Uriel, Geldall, Enman, and Ebel, stood at the far wall of the chamber, and Calidus could feel the intensity of contempt from the eyes of Geldall, cold indifference from those of Enman, and a touch of pity and sorrow from those of Ebel. The Emperor regarded him with his usual impersonality and professionalism. The guards presented Calidus before the Council and the Septims, and he stood before them, his expression cold and terse, waiting to hear his verdict.

"Publius Galerius Calidus…" said the High Elf Chancellor Ocato, Imperial Battlemage. "You've had quite a history with the Septim family, haven't you? Rooting out conspirators in the Council, Spying for the Blades, guarding and 'tutoring' Prince Ebel. You seem to be great friends with the Prince."

"I'm a soldier, and soldiers follow orders. I've been following orders for decades, now. I have dedicated my life to serving Tamriel and the Septims, and I have done so to the best of my ability. I have spent a lot of time with Prince Ebel, yes, but our relationship has never lost its professionalism. I'm sure the Prince himself can attest to the fact that my orders were to help educate and prepare the Prince for some of the new responsibilities he may gain after Prince Geldall inherits the throne, and that I have done so to the fullest extent of my abilities."

"Are you aware of the specific accusations that have been made against you, and the case that Prince Geldall has made for your apprehension and punishment?"

"I am aware of the accusations the Prince has made, but I am unaware as to what his evidence is."

"I will let Prince Geldall have the floor to make a statement."

Prince Geldall parted from the back wall and approached the gathered Councilors.

"Thank you, Chancellor. For some time, Blade Calidus has been reporting directly to members of my family. He first worked for my father, Emperor Uriel VII, during which time he allegedly discovered the Talos Cult and their plotting, as well as another organization known as the Mythic Dawn. He was later sent to look after my brother, Ebel. On his watch, my brother was attacked and was very nearly killed by assassins of whose origins we are unaware. My accusations are as follows: That the assassins who attempted to kill my brother belonged to the Talos Cult, and that Blade Calidus is an operative of that cult, intentionally getting personably close to my father and my brother in order to glean information off of them and leak it to the cult. My brother has testified that the agent 'saved' him from the attempt on his life, but I think the real case is that the Blade was planning on making a phony attempt to save my brother, but eventually allowing the assassins to kill him. His plan went wrong when the assassins were never able to approach and were instead beaten back and killed. He has been working his will in the Empire by influencing my brother in order to give himself political leverage, while he has been secretly plotting against the Empire in order to ferment fear and frighten the Septim family into giving him more power over their lives and their decisions."

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." Calidus replied without raising his voice.

"Is it? Why is it that the assassins only struck while you were with the Prince, in an event that was supposed to be completely confidential until the arena matches had already begun? It seems clear to me that you leaked the information to the cult that the Prince was going to be visiting the arena, and you gave them detailed information regarding how and when to strike most effectively."

"I don't know how the assassins were prepared for the Prince's attendance of the arena games. We haven't been able to learn anything about them." Calidus replied.

"It seems to me," Geldall began again, "that the only way for the cult to have such an intimate knowledge of Prince Ebel's schedule and activities would be to receive that information from an inside informant. And what better informant could there be than a personal friend of the Prince?"

"You're crazy." Calidus said in his usual, rounded tone. "This is nothing more than a wild conspiracy theory. You have no evidence to back any of this up. It doesn't make sense anyway. Why would I have even informed the Empire of the Talos Cult's existence if I was working for them?"

"To cover your own skin, of course. To turn everyone's attention outward while you plotted against the Septims on the inside."

"You can't prove something that isn't true."

"The lack of evidence has been noted by the Council." Chancellor Ocato cut in. "However, given the severity of the situation – an attempt on a Prince's life – we've come to the conclusion that we can spare no expense in ensuring the safety and well-being of the Septim family. There are some on this Council who want you to face execution or torture, Blade Calidus…"

"They're fools. If it wasn't for me the Prince would be dead. I've done more to help the Septims than any of you."

"…maybe, maybe not, Blade. We are not going to go to those extremes, however. It has been decided by the Council that until this matter with the Talos Cult has been settled completely, and we have learned more about this organization called the 'Mythic Dawn', you are going to be held in our custody in the Imperial City Prison. It's impossible to prove Prince Geldall's claims true, but it is also impossible to clear you of any wrongdoing. We can't afford to keep you free if you could potentially be a threat to the security of the Empire. You will be stripped of all titles and privileges. From here on out, you are no longer a Blade, nor are you an agent of the Septims, nor are you a Knight of the Imperial Legion. You will be transported immediately to the prison and held there until further notice."

Calidus' heart sank deeper with every sentence that emerged from the Chancellor's mouth.

"Where is the justice, here? I've served the Empire for my entire life and you reward me by throwing me in prison with the lowest degenerates Tamriel has to offer!?"

His eyes found the Emperor, who appeared to be letting out a sigh of moroseness, the wrinkles around his eyes appearing looser and droopier than ever.

"Emperor…you know that I'm innocent. Can't you do anything to clear my name?"

"I will not weigh in on this situation personally, Publius. I have delegated this case to the judgment of the Council and of Prince Geldall. He is taking the reins from me and coming into his own, as it should be. I am an old man, and he is stepping up to rule the Empire in my stead when I'm gone."

"So you're going to let these people send me to jail without a scrap of evidence?"

"I understand your anger, Calidus. But I've had more dreams. Somehow, I believe that this is what the Gods have intended. My visions tell me that all will be well, even if it doesn't seem that way now."

"So you're going to let them lock me up…" Calidus said, his words icy with contempt, "Because of a dream you had?"

"The Emperor is not giving you this sentence, we are." Chancellor Ocato said.

He cast one last look upon the sorrowful face of the Septim family, and the cold stares of the Councilmen as the guards tied his hands behind his back and led him out of the Council chamber, and outside, under heavy escort, toward the Imperial City Prision.


End file.
